Beautiful Things
by kicksenselessmydefenses
Summary: "I'm not a religious person in the slightest, but I've experienced heaven, and it's here and now, kissing this beautiful, misunderstood girl in this stuffy, ammonia-scented janitor's closet." Tori/Jade. Oneshot.


I walk cautiously down the hallway, gripping my pass in my right hand, taking the extra time to peer around the corners before I turn them and make sure that there aren't any adults lurking nearby. It's silly, I think to myself, raking a hand through my hair. I'm just walking through school. It's only study hall, so it's not like I'm skipping class or anything, and besides, I have a note. I swallow hard as I round another corner and walk past a row of lockers, my heels clicking on the tiled floor so loud that it sounds like gunshots to my ears.

I think I hear footsteps behind me, so I quickly duck into the small bathroom that I'm passing by, leaning up against the closed door, feeling the cool wood against my back through my shirt and trying to force my lungs to take a breath. Seeing a teacher right now would definitely not be beneficial; I'm sure I have guilt written all over my face- I might be a good actress, but I can't lie to save my life, and I might not be doing anything wrong right now, but it's what I'm headed to do that could get me into trouble if I got caught.

I hear the footsteps pause outside the bathroom door, and I hold my breath, feeling my heart pounding a staccato rhythm against my ribcage, cursing them in my mind and willing them to leave. Eventually, they do, shuffling away until I can't even hear them anymore.

Once I'm sure they're gone, I poke my head out the door into the empty hallway, making sure the coast is clear before the rest of my body follows and I begin walking again. I finally reach my destination, and so I tuck my hall pass into the pocket of my jeans, checking both ways once more before I open the door and casually slip inside, using my thumb and forefinger to flick the lock into place behind me.

My eyes are still adjusting to the dim light in the room when a pair of hands grabs me by the shoulders and all but slams me against the wall. "You're late," a voice purrs into my hair, nibbling the edge of my ear, and I swear that I can feel my knees instantly go weak, making it hard for me to stand. It's a good thing I'm pressed up against this wall- otherwise, I'd definitely be on the floor right now. "I know, babe," I whisper, reaching up and gently stroking one of the hands that still grips me, trailing its cool fingertips over the ridge of my collarbone. "I'm sorry. But I'm here now. That's what counts, right?" I chew my lip, knowing that, with her, it could go either way.

Jade pulls back just enough that I can see her cocking an eyebrow at me, muscles twitching in her cheek, struggling to keep her default expression of annoyance from breaking into a grin. I like it when she smiles. It's a beautiful thing. But, like most everything that's beautiful or good, Jade hates it, and so I of course try and make her do it as often as possible, just to get under her skin a little like I like to do. I figure it's about my turn after the way she treated me for so long. But that's water under the bridge now, I guess. It has to be.

"Yeah, Vega," she says, gritting her teeth and wincing, like it's paining her to be nice. "That's what counts." She slides her hands down from my shoulders, skimming over the skin of my arms. I can feel goosebumps rising on my flesh and I hope to God she doesn't notice them, and she doesn't seem to, just glides over them before her hands finally come to rest just above my hips. I shiver a little; I can't help it. I've always been a sucker for having my waist touched, and judging from the way she's smirking at me, she knows that; has worked it out from a few of our previous encounters.

"Jade, I-"

"Shh." She presses a finger against my lips, silencing me. "Not now." I start trying to sputter out a protest, to tell her we really don't have much time and should seriously be getting back to study hall, and she rolls her eyes and lets out a heavy sigh, pulling me closer until our middles are touching. "Jesus Christ, Tori, do you want to have a nice fucking conversation or do you want to make out with me?"

I don't say anything. I know the question is completely rhetorical, and even if it wasn't, she already knows the answer I'd choose.

"Good." And then she's bending down to kiss me, and my mind goes completely, blissfully blank. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding and wrap my arms around her neck, fervently pressing our faces together. I open my mouth just a touch so she can flick her tongue against mine, and I can't help but let out a soft moan when she does so. She tastes like the remnants of the black coffee she had clutched this morning, like the vanilla lip balm I know she keeps tucked in the waistband of her skirt. I tangle one hand in her hair, twirling a black curl around my finger, my other hand tracing circles on her back through the fabric of her shirt. Jade makes little humming sounds of approval and presses her palms against my ribcage, and I melt a little at her touch.

I'm not a religious person in the slightest, but I've experienced heaven, and it's here and now, kissing this beautiful, misunderstood girl in this stuffy, ammonia-scented janitor's closet.

I have no idea how this happened- me and her. We hated each other for what felt like forever, and then somewhere along the line, things changed, into something more meaningful and way, _way_ more secretive. No one knows about us (not that there is an "us", I just- use that term for storytelling purposes), and I'm not sure I want them to- people always tend to jump to conclusions, to slap labels on every little thing and try to box things up to make them pretty and symmetrical, and I know that just isn't possible for Jade and I. What we have is something that doesn't make sense, that doesn't fit into the clean little plane of normalcy, and I don't know what it means, or if it even means anything.

I know that when we leave here, we'll part ways, go back to class, and so go right back to hating each other. She'll wrap herself around her clueless boyfriend and sling insults at me and I'll grin and bear it like I always do, turning the other cheek just like my mother always taught me. And it will be okay, because I'll still have the memory of her on me, and I will be able to taste and feel and touch her in that memory, and that will be more than enough until we meet again.

I pull her close to kiss her harder, deeper, and I can feel her smiling against my lips.

It's a beautiful thing.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

So... um... I've been a huge Jori shipper for awhile, and I sat down to write another chapter of one of my other stories and this came out instead. I've never written for this pairing before, so I'm sorry if it totally sucks. :P Be awesome and let me know what you thought!


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